


it's hard, coming up for air

by interstellarbeams



Series: coming up for air [1]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Drunken Kissing, F/M, Light Angst, Post-Season/Series 02, mentions of Jiya Marri, mentions of Rufus Carlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 14:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14310297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarbeams/pseuds/interstellarbeams
Summary: She stood in the hallway of her apartment building, keys still in hand, but she didn't attempt to fit the key into the lock. She just stood there, mouth agape, with fingers pressed to her kiss-swollen lips.





	it's hard, coming up for air

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my friends, Kinsey and Logan, for all their encouragement and for all the girls in the group chat for being supportive. You know who you are! <3
> 
> I was trying to pull myself out of another funk by writing this but I hope it's enjoyable anyways.
> 
> Title from _Air_ by Shawn Mendes feat. Astrid
> 
> BTW if you didn't already know, the Timeless soundtrack came out today so you should really go listen to that/buy it on iTunes, especially for the Wyatt and Lucy theme. I'm sobbing!

She hadn't meant for it to happen. She hadn't been expecting it either. It was as much of a surprise to her as it was to him, if his reaction was anything to go by. 

She stood in the hallway of her apartment building, keys still in hand, but she didn't attempt to fit the key into the lock. She just stood there, mouth agape, with fingers pressed to her kiss-swollen lips.

 

\-----

 

They had started off at the bar, having a quick nightcap after a crazy week of time traveling -- instead of island hopping, which would have been preferable -- they had jumped from several different time periods and time zones, in just 48 hours, and the team was exhausted. 

Unsurprisingly, after their agreement back at base to meet up at their favorite local joint, Rufus and Jiya had bowed out leaving a stoic Wyatt and even more awkward Lucy to drink alone without their happy-go-lucky couple buffer. Lucy knew she could count on Rufus to distract Wyatt with inaccurate sports analysis while Jiya would be a lifesaver and keep the drinks and gossip coming in order to keep Lucy from moping too much.

Things between them had been tense ever since their night spent together in 1941 and the surprise reappearance of Wyatt's wife, Jessica. 

_Shock_ wasn't even close to what Lucy had felt when she found out about Jessica’s return, leaving Lucy to wonder if Wyatt's wife had ever actually been dead or did she only survive in this new timeline because of something he or she did in the old one. Time travel can really boggle the mind, not only figuratively but also _literally_ \-- if Jiya's newly discovered futuristic visions were anything to go by -- when traveling in the Lifeboat. 

Their drinks sat before them, Lucy's champagne flute sweating in the warmth of the overcrowded room while Wyatt's first whiskey didn't even last long enough to dampen the cocktail napkin. Lucy worried the worn velvet ribbon of her locket with nervous fingers as she searched the crowd for anything to distract her from the intense blue eyes of the man sitting across from her. 

God, how she wished to go back to that morning in bed with him. Their arms around each other, with nothing more important on their minds that how they were going to tell their teammates that they were now, _officially_ a couple. 

_Rufus’s discovery of them and then quick departure would make for a funny anecdote_ , she thought, if it weren't a reminder of all the pain caused by that entire situation. _If only._

Lucy bit her lip as she watched Wyatt retreat back to the bar, loading up his glass with more whiskey, as if preparing for battle -- like he would load his gun before every mission, to make sure everything was prepared and in working order.

Lucy swallowed the last sip of no longer bubbly champagne, slid her handbag onto her shoulder and made her way to the door. _Ignoring your problems or your ex-lovers won't make them go away, Lucy_ , she told herself, and she was right because as soon as she reached for the door handle a familiar hand reached out to stop her.

“Where do you think you're going, ma’am?” Wyatt asked, in his distinct drawl.

Lucy rolled her eyes before turning slightly to look at Wyatt out of the corner of her eye, “I’m going home, Wyatt, I think I can handle it from here.”

The faint scent of whiskey and days old cologne wafted over her as Lucy braced herself for another overprotective Wyatt speech.

“I should at least walk you home, Luce-- Lucy, since I’m the one who invited you here.” Wyatt stumbled over the use of her nickname and Lucy closed her eyes against the dull ache his fumble caused. 

She wanted to remind him that the invitation had been for a group ‘after work’ round, not a one on one outing between the two of them. She started to shake her head but at a soft _please_ from him, she couldn't say no. _He wears me down with those startling blue eyes and the Southern charm and I let him have his way every time. Damn him, why do I always let him do this to me?_

 

\-----

 

They decided to walk since Lucy's apartment was so close. Another bad idea, at least in her car there would have been a console between them, as a buffer of sorts, but out in the open there was no place to hide. Her feelings, her wants, her entire being on display and of course, she didn't even try to stop him once they were outside her door. She wants this, she wants him and she doesn't care that it's wrong on so many levels -- they've been drinking, their relationship hasn't totally healed yet, the fact that they are also _coworkers_.

But she lets Wyatt take what's being offered without hesitation. Desire racing through her veins, like the champagne bubbles had gone to her head only moments before, making her drunk on him. Before she has even decided to ask him in, she's pressed against her apartment door, her head cushioned from banging against the wood by a carefully placed hand and Lucy has to marvel at the care that he exerts towards her even when all his other senses have been dimmed by alcohol and lust. 

She gasps at the nip of his teeth on her lower lip and then she is being devoured. His lips are everywhere and nowhere at once and she can't keep up. One glass of champagne couldn't affect her this much but the taste of whiskey on his tongue has her addicted. The scrape of his stubble sends a shiver through her as his lips descend to her neck and she's lost in sensation. 

“Wyatt,” she moans, hitching her leg around his and too far gone to care that they are basically making out in the _very_ public hallway of her apartment building.

It's like a switch is flipped and he's suddenly pulling away. She lets him, her arms dropping from around his neck with a clatter as her keychains clank together. 

“I’m sorry, I-- I shouldn't have...I just--” Wyatt shakes his head, a slight uptick to his mouth, as he turns away and heads down the hall.

She falters for just a moment, one hand on the doorknob and keys in hand before she thinks, _screw it_ , and calls him back.

“ _Wyatt_.” She's sure she says it out loud but he doesn't falter in his stride, his shoulders squared and solid -- just like his personality -- each step taking him further and further away from her. 

“Wyatt, _please_ ,” she pleads, her heart dropping into her chest at the sight of him rounding the corner, heading toward the elevator.

She unlocks her door, her heart still beating swiftly, its pulse in her fingertips and under her skin where he will always be. Tossing her purse on the kitchen table, she turns to slump into a chair when she hears footsteps in the hallway.

Her heart speeds up automatically, just at the thought of him, and then he’s there -- standing across from her with one hand on the open door. 

“I shouldn't have done that.” He says with conviction. She doubts he’s being completely honest with himself or why would he be standing in her entryway instead of halfway home, but she doesn't say anything, she just watches him, waiting for what's bound to come next.

“I’m sorry.” He finally spits out and that's when she moves.

The chair scrapes across the floor with an unearthly screeching noise but she doesn't bat an eye as she launches herself at him. 

“I’m not,” she breathed, before she's the one who's got _him_ pressed against the wall of her living room and then he’s the one groaning _her_ name.

\-----

to be continued (maybe? tell me what you think) 


End file.
